


King and Knight

by orphan_account



Series: Lock and Key [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcohol/Drug Abuse, Bill likes fluffy soft things, Body Horror, Boxer!Mabel, Death, Dip and paz are salty friends, F/F, F/M, Ferrand is the big bad wolf, Ford is somewhere on the gray-ace spectrum, GAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY, Gore, Had a long museless dry spell, Homophobia, I am FiddAuthor trash, I can feel the Roman Empire rolling over in their graves), I like my distress, I’m a tagger, I’m back bitches, I’ma give stan a bf probs, M/M, Reincarnation, Scipio is little red, Stalking, Stan is bi, There will be past Starla, abomination!ciphers and co, actually don’t, ballerina!paz, bc he deserves to be happy, big explosions happen, bill likes science AND magic, but at the same time Scipio is the bigger badder wolf, but helpful and sweet, but it hurt, but it was funny, but now I’m ready to make you cry, can't stop won't stop, classism that is v similar to racism, comments and reviews make my day, dystopian alternate reality, fuck you ferrand, gardner!mabel, gay christmas fluff chapter will happen, help me, homestuck trash!paz, hopeless romantic!dipper, how did I get this far, i built a whole world for the backstory, ice ice baby, if this story changes your life that's good it means i did my job, immoral acts, it became a series, it escalated, it was fun, it’s greek prefix on a latin root?, i’ll ship whatever i want so fuck you kindly, just don’t, knife specialist !Dip, language building wise, like ?!?!?, lol that has no relevance, magic!pines twins, monstrous alternate realities, murder that is condoned by the public, no one cares about traditional family values, no one likes you, not safe for chilluns, older dip/bill, pretty much everyone middle fingers gender roles/standards, probably will have a sex scene, psychokinetic!paz, rape mention, runner!paz, sequel to lak, sharpshooter!paz, singer/dancer!ciphers, slooow burn, so he's kinda an ass, the Ci parents were polyerosic (polyamorous makes no sense to me, the billdip haters can eat my ass, they go clubbing at one point, they make fun of Tronald Drump, this all started with a prompt in art class, this characterization is based off Bills original introduction somewhat, this story is really hardcore, transphobic slurs, writer!dip, you’re a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lock and Key's sequel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dipper Isn’t Supposed To Bring Weird Sh*t From The Woods Into The Shack.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr (LaK is there too!) my blog is scipiocipher!

Chapter One: Dipper Isn’t Supposed To Bring Weird Sh*t From The Woods Into The Shack.

Age: 18

Bill was, to put it lightly, confused. To put it in exact words, he was a mixture of in complete and utter bodily agony, surprise, pain, a little pinch of fear, and did I mention that he felt like he’d been funneled, while whole, through a hole the size of a quarter into deep space? Frankly, he shouldn’t have been holding up a person right then, but he’d always been a rule breaker. Everything was dead quiet.

Then, one of the many sources of his surprise broke the all consuming silence, bring the usual sounds of the night with him by slurring out a ”Who’re you?” and slumped against him.

A young man who he had last seen several years ago, judging by his face. It had felt like several hundred lifetimes. Suddenly, he got a strange feeling in his chest, like an internal compass, telling him where to go. Carefully, he shifted, swinging his companion up into his arms rather than leaving him in an awkward semi-hug position. Unfortunately, he misjudged his strength, due to the fact that in the Mindscape you could do whatever you could imagine. Which means he fell over. (Luckily for Dipper, he fell on his ass.)

 _Okay,_ thought Bill, _the massive amount of pain kinda told me this was real, but that definitely had a YOU ARE CORPOREAL NOW, ASSHOLE vibe to it._

A rustling noise stirred him from his thoughts. His head whipped around, and he noticed the acrid smell of burnt flesh. There was a lump of large, black charcoal that appeared to the source. He gently set the strange young man down at the base of a large rowan tree (one of the only three in that forest, in fact), and went over and gently nudged it with his foot. Part of it crumbled into large hunks of ash. The stench grew exponentially, and he gagged and stumbled back.

_His brother, tied to a large wooden pillar, silently awaiting his fate._

_Flames racing towards him hesitantly, horrified at what they couldn’t stop themselves from doing for once._

_Fire colored eyes, spilling fire colored tears._

_Burning flesh scenting the air._

Bill braced himself against one of the many quaking aspens in the area, and tried to compose himself.

”Not real.” he mumbled. “That happened billions of years ago. Get a _grip_ you pathetic piece of shit.”

He took a breath, and looked over at the young man. “How am I gonna carry him?” He tapped his fingers against his leg, an old habit that every member of his family had, yet none noticed (except for the youngest. He noticed things like that). It always meant a solution was at hand.

 _Maybe if I..._ Bill thought. _Oh well, what have I got to lose_.

Bill began to whistle. It was a long, eerie note, and he whistled it 7 times. It made goosebumps rise, and spines shiver, and not without reason. After all, a witch’s ability to whistle up a wind to them was feared by many a man. And that, my dear reader, is what Bill was- or is, I suppose.

A Witch.

A witch, from a family of witches, who was one of the three most powerful witches in the history of his home dimension.

Sorry, went off on a tangent there.

A wind came, and wound around Bill’s legs like a cat. Bill whispered in his original language, explaining the issue to the wind. Gently, the wind lifted the other young man’s unconscious body and Bill took on the little weight he could carry to help. If anyone had seen it would seen it would have looked like a golden mist had encircled Bill’s legs and was caressing the man he was carrying. Bill calmly strode in the direction his internal compass told him.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

It had been a few hours, and it was still dark. Whenever something leered to close, Bill turned to stare them down until they ran off. Nothing sane dared to mess a creature that’s first language was thesame as the wind’s and had eyes of burning gold. Bill Cipher was a feared man amongst the sane, and a bug to the crazy. Only the insane thought the sun was harmless. No one should ever make that mistake.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

It was nearly sunrise when the buzzing in his chest stopped. He had arrived at a house that was old, but well kept. It had an old red sign that read in capital, red letters; THE MYSTERY HACK. there was a newer looking S leaning against the wall, having fallen off.

Suddenly, the door burst open. A man with tired eyes and six fingers pointed a strange looking gun at him. One look at the other young man’s unconscious, injured body was all it took to make him fire.

Bill felt his muscles seize and spasm. He fell to the ground.

The young man fell away from him. The older man walked over.

The last thing he saw before everything was lost to spasms and blackness was a pair of blue eyes turning brown in concern.

The code is: Lzw gfw tdwwvk ygdv zsk dguc gf zak zwsjl, lzw gfw esvw gx klsjk zsk yjwsl ljasdk lg gnwjugew lg mfdguc al.

The key is in the line break things


	2. Dammit Ford

Chapter Two: Dammit Ford  
Age: 18  
Dipper shot up, his eyes turning from what Mabel liked to call ‘blue bitch’ to ‘soulful brown’. The Mindscape’s guardian was spasming violently on the ground. Great Uncle Ford stood over him, his gun pointed at his head. Suddenly, the spasms stopped. Dipper crawled over to his still body and felt for a pulse.  
Nothing.  
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Dipper screamed, horribly distraught for a reasons he didn’t quite understand. Ford was so startled he dropped his gun.  
“I-I just thought-”  
“WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG.” Ford winced. Something about his pulse stopping made Dipper lose it. He couldn’t fight the feeling that he was supposed to protect him. In fact, at one point, he had gathered the man’s still body into his arms.   
There was a scratch on his cheek that was bleeding gold.  
Unexpectedly, the body took a deep breath. His golden eyes flew open, burning into Dippers very soul.   
“I’m not that easy to kill.” he whispered hoarsely. Golden lines spread from from his freckles, his sclera turned black and another streak in his hair turned white. He took a deep, heavy, tired breath. He slumped into Dipper’s arms even more, bone weary from lack of sleep. His eyes fluttered closed and he went limp against him, his chest rising and falling steadily.  
Ford and Dipper looked at him, then at each other. Then back at him. And back at each other. Then back at him. And back at each other. This went on for awhile. Eventually, Dipper lifted the man up and took him into the house without a word to Ford. This sort of reaction happened rather frequently. When Dipper was younger, he idolized Ford. As he got older, he noticed his worst traits. Paranoia, projecting, paralleling, excessive selfishness, disregard for others, vengeance complex- just to name a few.   
Long story short, Dipper still had vague, begrudging respect for Ford, but he didn't like him at times. Well, most of the time actually.  
When Dipper walked into the kitchen, his sister’s head shot up from where it had been resting on the table. “Dipper, you’re oka-ughhh.” she groaned and put her head back on the table. “I didn’t know hangover’s were this bad. Who’s your friend? I heard Ford fire his gun.” she inquired.  
“Try a banana smoothie for that hangover. He’s, ummm, I don’t know but, Ford shot him, so we owe him one.”   
“Thanks. Ford shot him?” Mabel asked  
“Yeah, I blacked out at one point after I left the party and he carried me home. I guess Ford assumed the worst of the worst.” Dipper didn’t bother trying to keep the anger out of his voice as he left the room.  
“Dipper, you shouldn’t idolize him, but you shouldn’t treat him like this either.” Mabel called after her brother.  
“Where’s Paz?” Dipper replied.  
“Out looking for you.” Mabel mumbled. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have to convince myself that it’s worth it to get up and make a smoothie.”  
!%!%!%!%!%!%!%  
Dipper went up the stairs, passing the mural Mabel had painted on the walls. He passed through his personal library, and opened his bedroom door with his foot. (it took a few tries.)  
Where Mabel’s bed had been there was a large mahogany desk and office chair that he had found dumpster diving. On top of that, he had three computers that he had decided built one night when someone spiked his drink with fun dip and due to the fact he somehow had all the supplies, when he was sober again, decided to finish, each with their own purpose; writing, research, and recreation (cough-tumblr-cough). He convinced Stan to let him upgrade his rickety bed frame and mattress, which was a decision he really was glad he had made. On the walls there were various mementos of his adventures and supplies. A pair of binoculars, a camera, an old horn, jars of various body parts (hidden behind a curtain, so he didn’t get sued for giving someone a heart attack), a crystal, a lump of cursed wax, a scale Mermando had sent Mabel, a first aid kit, etc.  
You get the idea.  
It was an organized mess.  
Dipper laid the injured man out on his bed, and sat in front of his desk, opening the research computer. He opened a tab and searched ‘black sclera’  
“Google, don't fail me now.” he muttered. If google didn’t find jack, he could go deeper. But he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea.   
The only thing he found was a bunch of urban legends about creepy 5 year olds and reports of FBI agents asking strange questions.  
He tried again, this time searching ‘black veins’.   
All he got was a video of a massacre that happened when he was 10 in a politician’s office.  
“Okay.” he breathed. “Last chance google.” He typed in ‘gold blood myths -apparel - clothes’.  
And he got a result.  
http://www.occultopedia.com/i/ichor.htm   
Ichor, the blood of immortals.  
Well that explained a lot.  
But it also explained nothing.  
For instance, he didn’t know of any gods that were associated with gold and the mind. Hell, he didn’t think this guy was a god. He got a sense that he knew him though...  
Dipper looked at his notebook that he kept near his desk for creating spells. Maybe it was time to use that past life spell...

The code is: Vdas bpgzh, qaprz hratgp, upsxcv axut, rpc iwt hjc hjgkxkt wxh dlc epxc?  
the key has the same rules as before.  
AN: disclaimer: the next chapter will feature a working spell. DO NOT ATTEMPT IT WITHOUT SOMEONE TO HELP YOU IF YOU REACT BADLY, OR SEE/FEEL SOMETHING UNPLEASANT. that said, if the formatting is wonky in my fics, i apologize.


End file.
